Shadow and Bone Excerpt

8/12/2019 Shadow and Bone Excerpt

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Henry Holt and CompanyNew York

L E I G H B A R D U G O


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he servants called them malenchki , littleghosts, because they were the smallest and theyoungest, and because they haunted the Dukes

house like giggling phantoms, darting in and out of rooms,hiding in cupboards to eavesdrop, sneaking into the kitchento steal the last of the summer peaches.

The boy and the girl had arrived within weeks of eachother, two more orphans of the border wars, dirty-faced ref-ugees plucked from the rubble of distant towns and broughtto the Dukes estate to learn to read and write, and to learna trade. The boy was short and stocky, shy but always smil-ing. The girl was different, and she knew it.

Huddled in the kitchen cupboard, listening to the grown-ups gossip, she heard the Dukes housekeeper, Ana Kuya,


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say, Shes an ugly little thing. No child should look likethat. Pale and sour, like a glass of milk thats turned.

And so skinny! the cook replied. Never nishes hersupper.

Crouched beside the girl, the boy turned to her andwhispered, Why dont you eat?

Because everything she cooks tastes like mud.Tastes ne to me.

Youll eat anything.They bent their ears back to the crack in the cupboard

doors.A moment later the boy whispered, I dont think youre

ugly.Shhhh! the girl hissed. But hidden by the deep shad-

ows of the cupboard, she smiled.

IN THE SUMMER , they endured long hours of choresfollowed by even longer hours of lessons in sti ing class-

rooms. When the heat was at its worst, they escaped intothe woods to hunt for birds nests or swim in the muddylittle creek, or they would lie for hours in their meadow,watching the sun pass slowly overhead, speculating on wherethey would build their dairy farm and whether they wouldhave two white cows or three. In the winter, the Duke leftfor his city house in Os Alta, and as the days grew shorterand colder, the teachers grew lax in their duties, preferring


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to sit by the re and play cards or drinkkvas. Bored andtrapped indoors, the older children doled out more frequent

beatings. So the boy and the girl hid in the disused rooms ofthe estate, putting on plays for the mice and trying to keepwarm.

On the day the Grisha Examiners came, the boy andthe girl were perched in the window seat of a dusty upstairsbedroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mail coach. Instead,

they saw a sleigh, a troika pulled by three black horses, passthrough the white stone gates onto the estate. They watchedits silent progress through the snow to the Dukes frontdoor.

Three gures emerged in elegant fur hats and heavywool kefta: one in crimson, one in darkest blue, and one invibrant purple.

Grisha! the girl whispered.Quick! said the boy.In an instant, they had shaken off their shoes and were

running silently down the hall, slipping through the empty

music room and darting behind a column in the gallery thatoverlooked the sitting room where Ana Kuya liked to receiveguests.

Ana Kuya was already there, birdlike in her black dress,pouring tea from the samovar, her large key ring janglingat her waist.

There are just the two this year, then? said a womanslow voice.


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They peered through the railing of the balcony to theroom below. Two of the Grisha sat by the re: a handsome

man in blue and a woman in red robes with a haughty,re ned air. The third, a young blond man, ambled about theroom, stretching his legs.

Yes, said Ana Kuya. A boy and a girl, the youngesthere by quite a bit. Both around eight, we think.

You think? asked the man in blue.

When the parents are deceased . . .We understand, said the woman. We are, of course,

great admirers of your institution. We only wish more ofthe nobility took an interest in the common people.

Our Duke is a very great man, said Ana Kuya.Up in the balcony, the boy and the girl nodded sagely to

each other. Their benefactor, Duke Keramsov, was a cele-brated war hero and a friend to the people. When he hadreturned from the front lines, he converted his estate intoan orphanage and a home for war widows. They were toldto keep him nightly in their prayers.

And what are they like, these children? asked thewoman.

The girl has some talent for drawing. The boy is mostat home in the meadow and the wood.

But what are they like? repeated the woman.Ana Kuya pursed her withered lips. What are they like?

They are undisciplined, contrary, far too attached to eachother. They


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They are listening to every word we say, said theyoung man in purple.

The boy and the girl jumped in surprise. He was staringdirectly at their hiding spot. They shrank behind the col-umn, but it was too late.

Ana Kuyas voice lashed out like a whip. Alina Starkov!Malyen Oretsev! Come down here at once!

Reluctantly, Alina and Mal made their way down the

narrow spiral staircase at the end of the gallery. When theyreached the bottom, the woman in red rose from her chairand gestured them forward.

Do you know who we are? the woman asked. Her hairwas steel gray. Her face lined, but beautiful.

Youre witches! blurted Mal.Witches? she snarled. She whirled on Ana Kuya. Is

that what you teach at this school? Superstition and lies?Ana Kuya ushed with embarrassment. The woman in

red turned back to Mal and Alina, her dark eyes blazing.We are not witches. We are practitioners of the Small

Science. We keep this country and this kingdom safe.As does the First Army, Ana Kuya said quietly, an

unmistakeable edge to her voice.The woman in red stiffened, but after a moment she

conceded, As does the Kings Army.The young man in purple smiled and knelt before the

children. He said gently, When the leaves change color, doyou call it magic? What about when you cut your hand and


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it heals? And when you put a pot of water on the stove and itboils, is it magic then?

Mal shook his head, his eyes wide.But Alina frowned and said, Anyone can boil water.Ana Kuya sighed in exasperation, but the woman in red

laughed.Youre very right. Anyone can boil water. But not just

anyone can master the Small Science. Thats why weve

come to test you. She turned to Ana Kuya. Leave us now.Wait! exclaimed Mal. What happens if were Grisha?

What happens to us?The woman in red looked down at them. If, by some

small chance, one of you is Grisha, then that lucky childwill go to a special school where Grisha learn to use theirtalents.

You will have the nest clothes, the nest food, what-ever your heart desires, said the man in purple. Wouldyou like that?

It is the greatest way that you may serve your King,

said Ana Kuya, still hovering by the door.That is very true, said the woman in red, pleased and

willing to make peace.The boy and the girl glanced at each other and, because

the adults were not paying close attention, they did not see thegirl reach out to clasp the boys hand or the look that passedbetween them. The Duke would have recognized that look.He had spent long years on the ravaged northern borders,


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where the villages were constantly under siege and thepeasants fought their battles with little aid from the King or

anyone else. He had seen a woman, barefoot and un inch-ing in her doorway, face down a row of bayonets. He knewthe look of a man defending his home with nothing but arock in his hand.


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CHAPTER

1

Standing on the edge of a crowded road, Ilooked down onto the rolling elds and abandonedfarms of the Tula Valley and got my rst glimpse of

the Shadow Fold. My regiment was two weeks march fromthe military encampment at Poliznaya and the autumn sunwas warm overhead, but I shivered in my coat as I eyed the

haze that lay like a dirty smudge on the horizon.A heavy shoulder slammed into me from behind. I

stumbled and nearly pitched face- rst into the muddy road.Hey! shouted the soldier. Watch yourself!Why dont you watch your fat feet? I snapped, and

took some satisfaction from the surprise that came over hisbroad face. People, particularly big men carrying big ri es,


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dont expect lip from a scrawny thing like me. They alwayslook a bit dazed when they get it.

The soldier got over the novelty quickly and gave me adirty look as he adjusted the pack on his back, then disap-peared into the caravan of horses, men, carts, and wagonsstreaming over the crest of the hill and into the valleybelow.

I quickened my steps, trying to peer over the crowd. Id

lost sight of the yellow ag of the surveyors cart hours ago,and I knew I was far behind.

As I walked, I took in the green and gold smells of theautumn wood, the soft breeze at my back. We were on theVy, the wide road that had once led all the way from OsAlta to the wealthy port cities on Ravkas western coast.But that was before the Shadow Fold.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone was singing.Singing?What idiot is singing on his way into the Fold? I glanced againat that smudge on the horizon and had to suppress a shud-der. Id seen the Shadow Fold on many maps, a black slash

that had severed Ravka from its only coastline and left itlandlocked. Sometimes it was shown as a stain, sometimesas a bleak and shapeless cloud. And then there were themaps that just showed the Shadow Fold as a long, narrowlake and labeled it by its other name, the Unsea, a nameintended to put soldiers and merchants at their ease andencourage crossings.


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I snorted. That might fool some fat merchant, but it waslittle comfort to me.

I tore my attention from the sinister haze hovering in thedistance and looked down onto the ruined farms of theTula. The valley had once been home to some of Ravkasrichest estates. One day it was a place where farmers tendedcrops and sheep grazed in green elds. The next, a dark slashhad appeared on the landscape, a swath of nearly impene-

trable darkness that grew with every passing year andcrawled with horrors. Where the farmers had gone, theirherds, their crops, their homes and families, no one knew.

Stop it , I told myself rmly.Youre only making thingsworse. People have been crossing the Fold for years . . . usuallywith massive casualties, but all the same. I took a deep breathto steady myself.

No fainting in the middle of the road, said a voiceclose to my ear as a heavy arm landed across my shouldersand gave me a squeeze. I looked up to see Mals familiarface, a smile in his bright blue eyes as he fell into step beside

me. Cmon, he said. One foot in front of the other. Youknow how its done.

Youre interfering with my plan.Oh really?Yes. Faint, get trampled, grievous injuries all around.That sounds like a brilliant plan.Ah, but if Im horribly maimed, I wont be able to cross

the Fold.


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Mal nodded slowly. I see. I can shove you under a cartif that would help.

Ill think about it, I grumbled, but I felt my moodlifting all the same. Despite my best efforts, Mal still hadthat effect on me. And I wasnt the only one. A pretty blondgirl strolled by and waved, throwing Mal a irtatious glanceover her shoulder.

Hey, Ruby, he called. See you later?

Ruby giggled and scampered off into the crowd. Malgrinned broadly until he caught my eye roll.

What? I thought you liked Ruby.As it happens, we dont have much to talk about, I

said drily. I actually had liked Rubyat rst. When Maland I left the orphanage at Keramzin to train for our mili-tary service in Poliznaya, Id been nervous about meet-ing new people. But lots of girls had been excited tobefriend me, and Ruby had been among the most eager.Those friendships lasted as long as it took me to gureout that their only interest in me lay in my proximity to

Mal.Now I watched him stretch his arms expansively and

turn his face up to the autumn sky, looking perfectly con-tent. There was even, I noted with some disgust, a littlebounce in his step.

What is wrong with you? I whispered furiously.Nothing, he said, surprised. I feel great.But how can you be so . . . so jaunty?


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Jaunty? Ive never been jaunty. I hope never to bejaunty.

Well, then whats all this? I asked, waving a hand athim. You look like youre on your way to a really gooddinner instead of possible death and dismemberment.

Mal laughed. You worry too much. The Kings senta whole group of Grisha pyros to cover the skiffs, and even afew of those creepy Heartrenders. We have our ri es, he

said, patting the one on his back. Well be ne.A ri e wont make much difference if theres a bad

attack.Mal gave me a bemused glance. Whats with you lately?

Youre even grumpier than usual. And you look terrible.Thanks, I groused. I havent been sleeping well.What else is new?He was right, of course. Id never slept well. But it had

been even worse over the last few days. Saints knew I hadplenty of good reasons to dread going into the Fold, rea-sons shared by every member of our regiment who had been

unlucky enough to be chosen for the crossing. But there wassomething else, a deeper feeling of unease that I couldntquite name.

I glanced at Mal. There had been a time when I couldhave told him anything. I just . . . have this feeling.

Stop worrying so much. Maybe theyll put Mikhael onthe skiff. The volcra will take one look at that big juicybelly of his and leave us alone.


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Unbidden, a memory came to me: Mal and I, sittingside by side in a chair in the Dukes library, ipping through

the pages of a large leather-bound book. Wed happened onan illustration of a volcra: long, lthy claws; leathery wings;and rows of razor-sharp teeth for feasting on human esh.They were blind from generations spent living and huntingin the Fold, but legend had it they could smell human bloodfrom miles away. Id pointed to the page and asked, What

is it holding?I could still hear Mals whisper in my ear. I thinkI

think its a foot. Wed slammed the book shut and runsquealing out into the safety of the sunlight. . . .

Without realizing it, Id stopped walking, frozen inplace, unable to shake the memory from my mind. WhenMal realized I wasnt with him, he gave a great belea-guered sigh and marched back to me. He rested his handson my shoulders and gave me a little shake.

I was kidding. No ones going to eat Mikhael.I know, I said, staring down at my boots. Youre

hilarious.Alina, come on. Well be ne.You cant know that.Look at me. I willed myself to raise my eyes to his. I

know youre scared. I am, too. But were going to do this,and were going to be ne. We always are. Okay? Hesmiled, and my heart gave a very loud thud in my chest.

I rubbed my thumb over the scar that ran across the


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palm of my right hand and took a shaky breath. Okay, Isaid grudgingly, and I actually felt myself smiling back.

Madams spirits have been restored! Mal shouted.The sun can once more shine!

Oh will you shut up?I turned to give him a punch, but before I could, hed

grabbed hold of me and lifted me off my feet. A clatter ofhooves and shouts split the air. Mal yanked me to the side of

the road just as a huge black coach roared past, scatteringpeople before it as they ran to avoid the pounding hooves offour black horses. Beside the whip-wielding driver perchedtwo soldiers in charcoal coats.

The Darkling. There was no mistaking his black coachor the uniform of his personal guard.

Another coach, this one lacquered red, rumbled past usat a more leisurely pace.

I looked up at Mal, my heart racing from the close call.Thanks, I whispered. Mal suddenly seemed to realize thathe had his arms around me. He let go and hastily stepped

back. I brushed the dust from my coat, hoping he wouldntnotice the ush on my cheeks.

A third coach rolled by, lacquered in blue, and a girlleaned out the window. She had curling black hair and worea hat of silver fox. She scanned the watching crowd and,predictably, her eyes lingered on Mal.

You were just mooning over him, I chided myself. Why shouldnt some gorgeous Grisha do the same?


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Her lips curled into a small smile as she held Mals gaze,watching him over her shoulder until the coach was out of

sight. Mal goggled dumbly after her, his mouth slightly open.Close your mouth before something ies in, I snapped.Mal blinked, still looking dazed.Did you see that? a voice bellowed. I turned to see

Mikhael loping toward us, wearing an almost comical expres-sion of awe. Mikhael was a huge redhead with a wide face

and an even wider neck. Behind him, Dubrov, reedy anddark, hurried to catch up. They were both trackers in Malsunit and never far from his side.

Of course I saw it, Mal said, his dopey expressionevaporating into a cocky grin. I rolled my eyes.

She looked right at you! shouted Mikhael, clappingMal on the back.

Mal gave a casual shrug, but his smile widened. So shedid, he said smugly.

Dubrov shifted nervously. They say Grisha girls can putspells on you.

I snorted.Mikhael looked at me as if he hadnt even known I was

there. Hey, Sticks, he said, and gave me a little jab on thearm. I scowled at the nickname, but he had already turnedback to Mal. You know shell be staying at camp, he saidwith a leer.

I hear the Grisha tents as big as a cathedral, addedDubrov.


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Lots of nice shadowy nooks, said Mikhael, and actu-ally waggled his brows.

Mal whooped. Without sparing me another glance, thethree of them strode off, shouting and shoving one another.

Great seeing you guys, I muttered under my breath. Ireadjusted the strap of the satchel slung across my shoul-ders and started back down the road, joining the last fewstragglers down the hill and into Kribirsk. I didnt bother to

hurry. Id probably get yelled at when I nally made it to theDocuments Tent, but there was nothing I could do aboutit now.

I rubbed my arm where Mikhael had punched me.Sticks.I hated that name. You didnt call me Sticks when you weredrunk on kvas and trying to paw me at the spring bon re, youmiserable oaf , I thought spitefully.

Kribirsk wasnt much to look at. According to theSenior Cartographer, it had been a sleepy market town inthe days before the Shadow Fold, little more than a dustymain square and an inn for weary travelers on the Vy. But

now it had become a kind of ramshackle port city, growingup around a permanent military encampment and the dry-docks where the sandskiffs waited to take passengers throughthe darkness to West Ravka. I passed taverns and pubs andwhat I was pretty sure were brothels meant to cater to thetroops of the Kings Army. There were shops selling ri esand crossbows, lamps and torches, all necessary equip-ment for a trek across the Fold. The little church with its


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whitewashed walls and gleaming onion domes was in sur-prisingly good repair. Or maybe not so surprising , I consid-

ered. Anyone contemplating a trip across the Shadow Foldwould be smart to stop and pray.

I found my way to where the surveyors were billeted,deposited my pack on a cot, and hurried over to the DocumentsTent. To my relief, the Senior Cartographer was nowherein sight, and I was able to slip inside unseen.

Entering the white canvas tent, I felt myself relax for therst time since Id caught sight of the Fold. The Documents

Tent was essentially the same in every camp Id seen, fullof bright light and rows of drafting tables where artists andsurveyors bent to their work. After the noise and jostle of thejourney, there was something soothing about the crackle ofpaper, the smell of ink, and the soft scratching of nibs andbrushes.

I pulled my sketchbook from my coat pocket and slidonto a workbench beside Alexei, who turned to me and whis-pered irritably, Where have you been?

Nearly getting trampled by the Darklings coach, Ireplied, grabbing a clean piece of paper and ipping throughmy sketches to try to nd a suitable one to copy. Alexei andI were both junior cartographers assistants and, as partof our training, we had to submit two nished sketches orrenderings at the end of every day.

Alexei drew in a sharp breath. Really? Did you actuallysee him?


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Actually , I was too busy trying not to die.There are worse ways to go. He caught sight of the

sketch of a rocky valley I was about to start copying. Ugh.Not that one. He ipped through my sketchbook to an eleva-tion of a mountain ridge and tapped it with his nger. There.

I barely had time to put pen to paper before the SeniorCartographer entered the tent and came swooping downthe aisle, observing our work as he passed.

I hope thats the second sketch youre starting, AlinaStarkov.

Yes, I lied. Yes, it is.As soon as the Cartographer had passed on, Alexei

whispered, Tell me about the coach.I have to nish my sketches.Here, he said in exasperation, sliding one of his sketches

over to me.Hell know its your work.Its not that good. You should be able to pass it off as

yours.

Now theres the Alexei I know and tolerate, I grum-bled, but I didnt give back the sketch. Alexei was one of themost talented assistants and he knew it.

Alexei extracted every last detail from me about thethree Grisha coaches. I was grateful for the sketch, so I didmy best to satisfy his curiosity as I nished up my elevationof the mountain ridge and worked in my thumb measure-ments of some of the highest peaks.


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By the time we were nished, dusk was falling. Wehanded in our work and walked to the mess tent, where we

stood in line for muddy stew ladled out by a sweaty cookand found seats with some of the other surveyors.

I passed the meal in silence, listening to Alexei and theothers exchange camp gossip and jittery talk about tomor-rows crossing. Alexei insisted that I retell the story of theGrisha coaches, and it was met by the usual mix of fascina-

tion and fear that greeted any mention of the Darkling.Hes not natural, said Eva, another assistant; she had

pretty green eyes that did little to distract from her piglikenose. None of them are.

Alexei sniffed. Please spare us your superstition,Eva.

It was a Darkling who made the Shadow Fold to beginwith.

That was hundreds of years ago! protested Alexei.And that Darkling was completely mad.

This one is just as bad.

Peasant, Alexei said, and dismissed her with a wave.Eva gave him an affronted look and deliberately turnedaway from him to talk to her friends.

I stayed quiet. I was more a peasant than Eva, despiteher superstitions. It was only by the Dukes charity that Icould read and write, but by unspoken agreement, Mal andI avoided mentioning Keramzin.

As if on cue, a raucous burst of laughter pulled me from


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my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder. Mal was holdingcourt at a rowdy table of trackers.

Alexei followed my glance. How did you two becomefriends anyway?

We grew up together.You dont seem to have much in common.I shrugged. I guess its easy to have a lot in common

when youre kids. Like loneliness, and memories of par-

ents we were meant to forget, and the pleasure of escapingchores to play tag in our meadow.

Alexei looked so skeptical that I had to laugh. He wasntalways the Amazing Mal, expert tracker and seducer ofGrisha girls.

Alexeis jaw dropped. He seduced a Grisha girl?No, but Im sure he will, I muttered.So what was he like?He was short and pudgy and afraid of baths, I said

with some satisfaction.Alexei glanced at Mal. I guess things change.

I rubbed my thumb over the scar in my palm. I guessthey do.

We cleared our plates and drifted out of the mess tentinto the cool night. On the way back to the barracks, we tooka detour so that we could walk by the Grisha camp. TheGrisha pavilion really was the size of a cathedral, coveredin black silk, its blue, red, and purple pennants ying highabove. Hidden somewhere behind it were the Darklings


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tents, guarded by Corporalki Heartrenders and the Darklingspersonal guard.

When Alexei had looked his ll, we wended our wayback to our quarters. Alexei got quiet and started crackinghis knuckles, and I knew we were both thinking abouttomorrows crossing. Judging by the gloomy mood in thebarracks, we werent alone. Some people were already ontheir cots, sleepingor trying towhile others huddled

by lamplight, talking in low tones. A few sat clutching theiricons, praying to their Saints.

I unfurled my bedroll on a narrow cot, removed myboots, and hung up my coat. Then I wriggled down intothe fur-lined blankets and stared up at the roof, waiting forsleep. I stayed that way for a long time, until the lamplightshad all been extinguished and the sounds of conversationgave way to soft snores and the rustle of bodies.

Tomorrow, if everything went as planned, we would passsafely through to West Ravka, and I would get my rstglimpse of the True Sea. There, Mal and the other trackers

would hunt for red wolves and sea foxes and other covetedcreatures that could only be found in the west. I would staywith the cartographers in Os Kervo to nish my training andhelp draft whatever information we managed to glean in theFold. And then, of course, Id have to cross the Fold again inorder to return home. But it was hard to think that far ahead.

I was still wide awake when I heard it.Tap tap. Pause.Tap. Then again: Tap tap. Pause. Tap.


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Whats going on? mumbled Alexei drowsily from thecot nearest mine.

Nothing, I whispered, already slipping out of mybedroll and shoving my feet into my boots.

I grabbed my coat and crept out of the barracks as qui-etly as I could. As I opened the door I heard a giggle, and afemale voice called from somewhere in the dark room, Ifits that tracker, tell him to come inside and keep me warm.

If he wants to catch tsi l , Im sure youll be his rststop, I said sweetly, and slipped out into the night.

The cold air stung my cheeks and I buried my chin inmy collar, wishing Id taken the time to grab my scarf andgloves. Mal was sitting on the rickety steps, his back to me.Beyond him, I could see Mikhael and Dubrov passing abottle back and forth beneath the glowing lights of thefootpath.

I scowled. Please tell me you didnt just wake me up toinform me that youre going to the Grisha tent. What doyou want, advice?

You werent sleeping. You were lying awake worrying.Wrong. I was planning how to sneak into the Grisha

pavilion and snag myself a cute Corporalnik.Mal laughed. I hesitated by the door. This was the hard-

est part of being around himother than the way he mademy heart do clumsy acrobatics. I hated hiding how muchthe stupid things he did hurt me, but I hated the idea of him

nding out even more. I thought about just turning around


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and going back inside. Instead, I swallowed my jealousyand sat down beside him.

I hope you brought me something nice, I said. AlinasSecrets of Seduction do not come cheap.

He grinned. Can you put it on my tab?I suppose. But only because I know youre good for it.I peered into the dark and watched Dubrov take a swig

from the bottle and then lurch forward. Mikhael put his

arm out to steady him, and the sounds of their laughteroated back to us on the night air.

Mal shook his head and sighed. He always tries tokeep up with Mikhael. Hell probably end up puking on myboots.

Serves you right, I said. So whatare you doing here?When wed rst started our military service a year ago, Malhad visited me almost every night. But he hadnt come by inmonths.

He shrugged. I dont know. You looked so miserable atdinner.

I was surprised hed noticed. Just thinking about thecrossing, I said carefully. It wasnt exactly a lie. Iwas terri-

ed of entering the Fold, and Mal de nitely didnt need toknow that Alexei and I had been talking about him. ButIm touched by your concern.

Hey, he said with a grin, I worry.If youre lucky, a volcra will have me for breakfast

tomorrow and then you wont have to fret anymore.


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You know Id be lost without you.Youve never been lost in your life, I scoffed. I was

the mapmaker, but Mal could nd true north blindfoldedand standing on his head.

He bumped his shoulder against mine. You know whatI mean.

Sure, I said. But I didnt. Not really.We sat in silence, watching our breath make plumes in

the cold air.Mal studied the toes of his boots and said, I guess Im

nervous, too.I nudged him with my elbow and said with con dence

I didnt feel, If we can take on Ana Kuya, we can handlea few volcra.

If I remember right, the last time we crossed Ana Kuya,you got your ears boxed and we both ended up mucking outthe stables.

I winced. Im trying to be reassuring. You could at leastpretend Im succeeding.

You know the funny thing? he asked. I actually missher sometimes.

I did my best to hide my astonishment. Wed spent morethan ten years of our lives in Keramzin, but usually I got theimpression that Mal wanted to forget everything aboutthe place, maybe even me. There hed been another lostrefugee, another orphan made to feel grateful for everymouthful of food, every used pair of boots. In the army,


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hed carved out a real place for himself where no one neededto know that hed once been an unwanted little boy.

Me too, I admitted. We could write to her.Maybe, Mal said.Suddenly, he reached out and took hold of my hand. I

tried to ignore the little jolt that went through me. Thistime tomorrow, well be sitting in the harbor at Os Kervo,looking out at the ocean and drinkingkvas.

I glanced at Dubrov weaving back and forth and smiled.Is Dubrov buying?

Just you and me, Mal said.Really?Its always just you and me, Alina.For a moment, it seemed like it was true. The world was

this step, this circle of lamplight, the two of us suspended inthe dark.

Come on! bellowed Mikhael from the path.Mal started like a man waking from a dream. He gave

my hand a last squeeze before he dropped it. Gotta go, he

said, his brash grin sliding back into place. Try to get somesleep.

He hopped lightly from the stairs and jogged off to joinhis friends. Wish me luck! he called over his shoulder.

Good luck, I said automatically and then wanted tokick myself.Good luck? Have a lovely time, Mal. Hope you nda pretty Grisha, fall deeply in love, and make lots of gorgeous,disgustingly talented babies together.


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I sat frozen on the steps, watching them disappear downthe path, still feeling the warm pressure of Mals hand in

mine. Oh well , I thought as I got to my feet. Maybe hell fallinto a ditch on his way there.

I edged back into the barracks, closed the door tightlybehind me, and gratefully snuggled into my bedroll.

Would that black-haired Grisha girl sneak out of thepavilion to meet Mal? I pushed the thought away. It was

none of my business, and really, I didnt want to know. Malhad never looked at me the way hed looked at that girl oreven the way he looked at Ruby, and he never would. Butthe fact that we were still friends was more important thanany of that.

For how long? said a nagging voice in my head. Alexeiwas right: things change. Mal had changed for the better.Hed gotten handsomer, braver, cockier. And Id gotten . . .taller. I sighed and rolled onto my side. I wanted to believethat Mal and I would always be friends, but I had to face thefact that we were on different paths. Lying in the dark,

waiting for sleep, I wondered if those paths would just keeptaking us further and further apart, and if a day might comewhen we would be strangers to each other once again.

Shadow and Bone Excerpt

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